


Wrong Place, Wrong Time

by Drag0nst0rm



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: And he's going to make sure everyone knows it, Crack, Gen, Time Travel, Tulkas was right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 19:32:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17007816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drag0nst0rm/pseuds/Drag0nst0rm
Summary: Morgoth manages to escape by traveling back in time.This doesn't work out quite as well as he had hoped.





	Wrong Place, Wrong Time

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own the Silmarillion.

Morgoth has a very long time to think once he has been cast into the Void. He uses it to turn his mind to ever greater magics, trying to find a way free.

At last, the solution becomes obvious.

Stop trying to break through the gates.

Start trying to break through _time._

What is time after all, out here in the Void?

 

It works, more or less. He is definitely back in Valinor, and since it is the light of the Trees biting at his eyes, he is presumably back in time.

Just not perhaps at an ideal moment.

He has just enough time to see a dark shape flying through the air before Tulkas has crashed into him. He hits the ground hard and tells himself he went down easy to avoid causing a suspicion provoking scene instead of because he had no choice.

“What was that - “ he starts to say, and then Tulkas’s fist crashes into his jaw.

“I knew it,” Tulkas growls. “I _knew_ you were up to something, I knew you’d show your true colors - “

That’s the point that Morgoth realizes he is still in the form he had worn in the last war and not the suspicion diverting form he had used to insinuate himself with the elves. He tries to change back.

The shift refuses to occur. He is stuck, just as he was then.

And stuck in more ways than one, as Tulkas is still on his back and doing his not inconsiderable best to pound him through the street and into the molten heart of Arda.

“I told you, Manwe!” Tulkas shouts into the wind. “I _told_ you. I’m going to say I told you so for the next Age, and you can’t stop me because I was _right_. Oh, don’t listen to Tulkas, he’s got muscles where his brains should be. Well, I was RIGHT! Ha!”

This last bit is punctuated with particularly emphatic blows. Morgoth almost wishes Manwe would just show up already.

“Lord Tulkas?” a particularly brave or foolhardy elf says hesitantly.

“All under control,” Tulkas says cheerfully. His fist crashes into Morgoth’s jaw again. Something cracks, and Morgoth doesn’t think it was Tulkas’s hand. “You’re a singer, aren’t you? Excellent. Lovely lyre you’ve got there, my wife loves those things. Go start spreading the word, will you? Melkor vanquished again, Tulkas was right, all that.” He pauses. “Especially that last part.”


End file.
